“Do you think I don’t know that?” I roar back, my body trembling with rage.
Trying to reestablish dominance, the Ringmaster coolly says, “In return for my cooperation, I have a request of my own.” The words roll off his tongue so slowly, it makes me wonder what twisted demand he’s about to make.
“What do you want?” I snap.
He smiles—slow and wicked, delighting in the power he thinks he holds. “You know what I seek.”
“And you know I’m not willing to sire an heir. I won’t do it.” My words strike a blade, and the room simmers with unchecked power.
“You’ll sire an heir when I tell you to,” Lucifer commands, and that ends the debate. Lucifer’s commands are unbreakable.
“A lesser sacrifice, then. To tide us over.” The Ringmaster sneers, bitter at being bested. “I want her father’s head. We’ll see if she can forgive you for killing him.”
Feigning disappointment, I mutter, “Fine.”
There’s no more bargaining. The deal is struck. The binds snap into place, and a faint tattoo burns into my skin.
Tonight will be no different than any other. I’ll hunt the snatchers, destroy the horde, and circle back to take care of her father—once and for all.
“Tonight, Azrael. Don’t return empty-handed,” he adds. “Go prepare for the show. We’re done here.”
I turn and walk toward the stables to begin preparations for tonight’s performance.
***
After the show, I set off on my tasks, only stopping to peek in on Mercy, fast asleep in her room—safe and sound. The town is buzzing with the news of the “accidents.” People are far too busy gossiping to notice me as I pass them on my way to her house, where I wait for her father to return from work.
Once I’m close, I hide behind a large bush, reaching out with my shadows to feel for his presence. A few minutes into my search, the sound of crunching feet approaches. Quickly, I dissipate into shadows.
His voice breaks the silence as he approaches the house. “I know you’re here. I know you’re out there somewhere. I may not catch you tonight, but I’ll catch you. And when I do, I’ll kill you. Stay away from Mercy, and there won’t be any trouble.”
Power pulses in the air around me as I weigh my two choices—flee for now or take him out and complete my tasks in reverse.I overanalyze the outcomes, measuring each path. All the while, shouting into the darkness.
Eventually, I slip away, stealthy down the dark street toward the market. Finding the house empty is a better punishment than death. Let it gnaw away at him. Let it fester until we meet again. I ignore his screams, but it takes every ounce of my restraint to walk away—leaving me even more unhinged than usual. All I can think about is his blood dripping down my chin, splashing to the ground as I consume every last drop. I want to feel the precise moment his soul breaks from his body and descends into Hell.
Instead, I barrel through the rows of shanties and crumbling buildings—something I should’ve done days ago. The cool night air flows through me as I begin my real hunt—for the horde I lied to Lucifer about.
The stench hits me before my shadows sense them. I’m close. They lead me to the hideout. I stand in the dark empty alley, gripping my dagger, and rolling my shoulders. This afternoon was practice compared to what I’m about to do. I imagine the black liquid souls seeping from fresh wounds, and my mouth waters. Each drop a confession. Each soul a scream I’ll swallow. I run my tongue across the rows of sharp teeth. These vagabonds have no idea what’s coming.
Soon.I stroke my finger down the sharp edge of the dagger, watching as it fails to pierce through my skin. The runes glow. This isn’t the entire horde—but for tonight, it will have to do.
I crack my neck, then kick down the door. Bursting from the shadows, I drive my dagger into the first snatcher’s chest. He drops to the ground. The others screech and howl—warning the rest. The horde will escape. For now. I fight and slash through the rotting bodies, black blood spraying. The dagger pulses with every banishing strike as I plunge the slick blade into the final snatcher, then kick its body to the ground. All twenty—vanquished.
One by one, I collect the black liquid into vials, drinking a portion from each. I draining their stolen souls until there’s nothing left. Then I raise my hands. Flames burst from my fingertips, consuming the corpses and the shanty. The fire crackles behind me as I walk away, power singing in my veins—fueled by revenge. I return to Mercy’s house, still high from the slaughter.
The shift in power has begun. The Ringmaster grows weaker. I grow stronger.
Standing in the garden at Mercy’s house, shrouded by the night, I stare at the small home. I know what I have to do, but it is a shame the house is going to be burned to the ground. But it’s the only way to hide her father’s body.
Speaking of her father—my eyes dart to the door. It opens, then closes. Mercy’s father lights his tobacco, leans against the exterior of the house, and starts whistling a tune to himself. I glare. Torturing him is the ultimate reward for saving Mercy. I’m going to enjoy every last minute of it. t He’s going to suffer the way he made Mercy and her mother suffer for years, and I just so happen to be blessed with the pleasure of doling it out.My menacing chuckle is loud enough to startle him. He stops whistling.
I pick up the tune where he left off and step out from behind the tree. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jacob.”
I grin a terrifying, toothy smile, blood dripping from my razor-sharp teeth as I allow my glamour to drop.
“Welcome home,” I growl.
He says nothing, but I can hear the thudding of his heart as he backs quickly his way through the door, slamming it behind him. The lock clicks into place—which only makes me laugh harder. Stupid human. A lock is no match for shadow. I flash across the garden with unhuman speed, spearing through every crack and crevice before manifesting in the kitchen.
